Hope's Howl
by Cocoon02
Summary: Their fates are bound by a curse, a curse put in place decades ago. Will they be able to overcome it? Or is destiny's pull too strong?
1. Snowfall

**Author's Note:** Hi! It's me again! So, this fic is a little...different. Well, for me, anyway. This is probably as far from canon as I've ever gone, so brace yourselves.

The idea, and plot, and, well...everything but the actual writing part, was made up by my fabulous friend, _Avid Vampire Hunter_! (Bleach fans should totally check her out, and she's even dabbled in a little 13 fanfiction). So if you love this story, it's her fault. If you hate it, it's mine. Any and all failures should be blamed on me. Because as any repeat readers will know, I suck.

But you didn't come here for an author's note, did you? Didn't think so. Time for the story!

* * *

Prologue

It was generations ago - three to be precise. Three generations since one of destiny's fragile, ever-weaving threads was stiffened so that all others attached to it could never break free. Their fate was sealed.

This thread was pulled taut by a curse. One that was fueled by an intense hatred and love combined. So powerful was the hold on the thread that the only way for the others to be free was to break, and thus be destroyed.

One who is capable of possessing knowledge of such things as fate and destiny could follow the unfortunate threads, and find that some shatter along the way, and one becomes strangled in the grasp of another. They would see a truly epic tale, but feel copious amounts of pity for those involved.

Every being has a story, whether their thread be hard-bound by fate, or free to flow and drift as they please.

Every story was an ending, be it a happily-ever-after, or a deep well of pain.

Twelve threads are cursed to their fate.

However.

Their story has yet to be written.

* * *

Chapter One - Snowfall

There lived in the wilds of Gran Pulse, a great silver wolf. From his paws to his ears, he stood at about the size of an average human, making him much taller and heavier than the rest of his kind. He was vicious let logical, something one need only look into his ocean eyes to understand.

However, no human ever got that close. All they ever saw was a glimpse of his tail, a flash of white as he sprinted past, or the remains of his last meal. One man spun a tale of the beast attacking him and his flock of sheep, but since all the animals were accounted for and he had not an injury to show, no one believed him.

The superstitious believed the wolf to be a ghost, some kind of spirit, perhaps a guardian of some sort. The realists didn't think the animal actually existed, otherworldly or otherwise. Those who bothered to argue their point said it was merely a figment, a mirage, nothing more.

The silver wolf was mostly unaware of what the humans called him, and he didn't care. The name his mother had given him was Hope, that was the only name that mattered to him, though he hadn't gone by it in years. He hadn't gone by anything.

He breathed in a lungful of the frigid air attempting to get past his thick fur, and noted that it would soon snow. The frequency of his meals would be decreasing rapidly.

Another whiff located potential food. Small, but everything was small to him. Ahead. Unaware.

His massive paws made nary a sound as he followed the scent. Another reason some thought him a ghost; he had mastered silence.

He crept up on his prey, perhaps the size of a fox. He slipped noiselessly between the foliage, and prepared himself. The animal wouldn't feel a thing.

His ears pricked as someone less careful rustled some leaves. His eyes remained locked on his prey, but his ears listened, and his nose sniffed.

Another wolf. Female.

_Oh, no._

It took a few more silent steps before he saw her. Just as he'd thought. She had sandy fur, and excited blue eyes. Less than half his size, she was small, even for a normal wolf. This wasn't the first time she'd happened upon his hunt. In fact, he'd begun to think she was following him. She didn't seem to belong to a pack, at least.

That was when she saw him. Though if his theory was correct, that's what she wanted it to look like. Her eyes said:

"This one's mine, old man."

He was half-tempted to bark and scare off the potential meat, but that would be signing up for whatever game she thought they were playing. Instead, he made like he was going to pounce.

She shot out of her hiding place with pup-like grace. She wasted time stumbling over nothing, and her prize scrambled away.

_Sloppy._

Still, she chased.

He watched her until she was no longer in range of any of his senses. He gave a huff in her general direction, and tasted the air one more time. He picked up on nothing but birds and rodents, not worth worrying about.

A ray of sunlight fell into his eye, and he instinctively jerked away. He shook his head to reorient his sight, stepping forward as he did so. Heat built up in his nose, and he sneezed. He stomped his front left paw- the solitary black patch of fur on his body - before shaking his head again.

The position of the sun was just beginning to paint the sky with the warm colors of dusk. The great wolf took note of this, and began his journey.

On the whole of the planet, there was but one man who had seen more than a fleeting glimpse of the wolf. In fact, this man often had conversations with the beast, one-sided though they may have been.

The man also knew that the silver animal had not always been so, but a silver-haired boy.

It had been thirteen years since his untimely transformation. Or - as his friends and family thought - his death. Only the man knew what really happened to him. The wolf wasn't quite sure how, but the man had more than once shown mystical abilities, so he didn't question it.

The wolf always made sure to keep no more than a few hours away from his human "friend". He pumped his powerful legs into a sprint, flattening his ears. When he was young, he dared never run anywhere aside from an open field, dared never willingly dull his hearing. But he wasn't afraid anymore. He hadn't met anything that posed a threat to him in the radius he allowed himself to wander. He himself was the only threat.

The sun continued it's decent as he flew through the landscape. He raced the colors dripping across the sky, finding excitement in his speed and freedom in the wind. He knew he'd never miss his pathetic human legs, capable of only a fraction of what he could do now.

He didn't slow until he caught the scent of several humans in the air. He panted as his body tried to compensate for the sudden excess of oxygen, he pricked up his ears again and made a beeline for the most separated structure, a path he'd taken countless times before.

The closer he got, the more sparse cover became. He hugged the treeline as best he could, but eventually had to break free from it's protection.

His human acquaintance lived in a village that hadn't quite moved from the label "primitive". The homes teetered somewhere between huts and cabins. It wasn't large enough to bother with roads, but well-worn dirt paths had been beaten by their fragile feet. They hunted as everyone else, but used much more short-range weapons.

They also didn't care for wolves.

He never came during the day, to reduce the risk of being spotted. The man had warned him many times that he _would_ be hunted if seen, because such a large wolf would be immediately pegged as a danger.

So he wasn't seen.

As he approached, something small and cold landed on his nose. He glanced up and saw that the snow clouds had caught up with the village. He paused for a minute or so, during which time the snowfall became visible without concentration. He predicted several inches by the next morning.

Flickering firelight came through the window of the man's house, glinting off of the falling snowflakes. The wolf walked up to the window, and saw one more person than he was expecting.

Intrigued, he went to the door and thumped his blackened paw against it, scratching with his claws on the way down. He may have been an animal, but he still retained his human manners.

The man's deep voice could be heard from inside. The wolf sat back on his haunches and patiently waited for the door to be opened.

He didn't have to wait very long.

"Ah, welcome."

* * *

**10 pointless points to anyone who can figure out who the she-wolf represents.**

**I now subject myself to your criticism. I must request that any straight-up hate be kept out of the reviews, but constructive criticism is totally appreciated. If you hate this, just walk away.**

**More positively, the next chapter is already underway, and I hope you want to continue reading! :)**


	2. A Refreshingly One-Sided Conversation

**Author's** **Note**: It appears that the 10 pointless points are still up for grabs. The she-wolf comes back later, so there's time to figure out who she's supposed to be.

Anyway, some actual stuff is about to happen. Yay!

* * *

Chapter Two - A Refreshingly One-Sided Conversation

The man stepped aside and gestured for the wolf to enter his home. He stood at perhaps roughly a foot and a half taller than the beast. He was well built with very defined features, and a unique hair color: deep purple. His face was cold yet kind, with dark eyes that seemed to pierce the soul. He was the only human the wolf had "spoken" to in over a decade.

Fur sprinkled with snow - not that one would notice - he padded inside. Warmth from the fire burning in the corner fireplace washed over him, and he sighed.

"Oh!" Came a second voice. The wolf followed his nose to the source.

A girl. She sat off to the side, in one of the two chairs the household contained. Her very green eyes were wide with fear, and for a moment he wondered why. Then he remembered. He let his tail droop and settled into a bare spot on the floor, trying to look as non-deadly as possible.

The man laughed. "There's no need to be afraid, my dear. My friend here won't hurt you."

The beast studied the girl. Her scent was soft, like flowers. Her hair was a bright pink-orange, pulled into two pigtails, with bangs swept to the side. She had a friendly face, despite her fearfulness. She was clothed in winter furs, and he decided not to question where exactly those furs came from. Her eyes held his attention the longest, like fresh spring grass they were.

"Y-your friend?" She stammered.

The man chuckled. "Yes. We have known each other for many years." He took his place in the other chair and added lightly, "However, I do all the talking."

The girl did not appear comforted by the attempt at a joke, nor by the man's casual behavior. She worked with several beaded necklaces she wore around her throat, twisting the beads between her delicate fingers.

Her human companion noticed as well. "You yourself are well acquainted with the creature's stories, though most _are_ merely stories."

Her grass eyes changed their message from fear to intrigue, though her hand stayed on her jewelry. "I-is it really the ghost?"

"Why don't you ask?"

The girl's discomfort of the situation visibly increased as she swallowed and crossed her legs at the ankles. She stared at the wolf, but didn't look him in the eye. She kept her gaze on his large paws, possibly afraid of angering him if she looked at him directly.

"A-are you the wolf?" She asked. "From the stories?"

He lowered his head toward his paws, almost forcing her to make eye contact, and nodded.

She practically jumped to the roof of the house. "It-"

"Understands you?" The man finished. "Yes, and very well, I assure you."

"Wow..."

"Indeed." The man stood, brushing off his clothes, and reached for a heavy coat which hung from the wall. "The fire is dying, I will go get more wood." He went to the door, but stopped before opening it. "There's some food in that bowl there the 'ghost' might appreciate." Snow soon filled in the space where he'd stood.

The girl shivered to counteract the sudden rush of cold air, while the wolf himself barely felt a thing. She appeared extremely distressed to be left alone with an animal as big as she was. The wolf glanced at the bowl the man had referred to, and took a great big sniff. Mean, relatively fresh. The man must've known he was coming.

The girl followed his gaze and seemed to be contemplating getting it for him. He'd let her decide. He could get it himself if she was too afraid. He rested his head on his paws, and stared into the increasingly feeble fire.

She decided to be brave. Her boots clunked lightly on the wooden floor as she retrieved his meal. She set it in front of him and backed off again, and it looked like she felt much safer in the chair.

The wolf ate gratefully, finding the idea of being fed by humans slightly ironic, yet nostalgic at the same time. He swallowed both meal and memory.

The girl watched him for a little while. He noticed that her eyes traced his entire body. He knew she was just trying to comprehend his size, but it made him uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

He focused on the food. Until she spoke, that is.

"Everyone made up the stories about you, but I bet yours are much more interesting."

He looked up at her. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by curiosity. She looked more innocent that way.

_My stories? You'd never believe me, even if I could tell you._

"You have a name, don't you? A real one?"

Nod.

"I thought as much." She glanced at a window, from which they could both see the snowfall getting thicker. She continued, "My name's Vanille."

Vanille. It stuck out to him, the strange tones of her accent making it all the more appealing to his ears. Why?

_It's a nice name._

Snow flew in again as the man returned. Slightly frozen, with several logs a burden in his arms. He quickly rekindled the fire, muttering to himself, something inaudible. When he was finished, he stood, and said to Vanille, "It's getting worse. You should head home before we're all buried."

"Sure." She answered. She began to leave, but only took a few steps. "I have a question." She said.

"Ask away." The man replied.

"This wolf...does it have a name?"

He nodded. "Hope."

"Hope?" Vanille looked confused. "So, is it a girl?"

Hope huffed.

The man chuckled. "Ah, you've offended him."

Vanille glanced at the wolf apologetically. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

_It's okay._

"You really should be going." The man insisted. "In fact, I shall escort you. I don't want you getting lost in this weather."

"All right." Her eyes found the wolf again, but this time he wasn't sure what he read there. She left when the man opened his door for her, and he stared after her.

"You know you are welcome to stay, my friend. But you are just as welcome to leave."

Hope looked up at him, and followed Vanille out. However, that was all the further he followed. He headed back to his trees, to a safe place to think. A lot had just happened. He'd met another human, friendly and curious, rather that cold and bloodthirsty. Not that any of them were remotely a threat. His name had been spoken, his real name. The name he generally chose to forget. It was odd. It was all so odd.

Somehow, though, he felt like he was supposed to meet her. Vanille. He'd been tempted to stay with her, just until she got home, just to make sure she was safe. Why?

He shook the thoughts out of his head, and beat himself a bed in the snow, underneath a tree. He knew he'd likely be covered by the time he woke, but he didn't anticipate sleeping for very long.

Never quite managing to quell his thoughts, he eventually fell asleep, the soft scent of flowers dancing in his nose.

* * *

**No, this is not a love-at-first-sight thing.**

**Now that that's out of the way, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Just like last time, I'm already making progress on the next chapter, so it should hopefully be up on schedule.**

**What do you think so far?**


	3. Warm Company

**Author's Note:** The 10 pointless points can now be awarded! Congrats to _Airhead259 _for figuring it out! ^_^ The other wolf represents Alyssa. Irritating, sandy fur, blue eyes, I thought it was a bit obvious, haha. I don't know, maybe I'm alone, but I really don't like her. Just, ugh. Like when she goes, "_Director_," I just cringe. No words.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews (and favs and follows)! Avi and I are glad you guys are enjoying the story so far! Hopefully you continue to enjoy it, as we continue...

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Chapter Three - Warm Company

Hope woke with the sun, and shrugged several inches of snow off of his back. Everything was covered, and the trees that still had leaves had lost a great majority. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and the world came into focus.

He forced himself to stand and violently shook off the rest of the snow. He startled a bird from it's perch, which squawked at him as it flew away. Just a typical fall morning.

He tasted for food, but there was nothing. That was fine with him, he didn't want to hunt at the moment, what he wanted...

He wanted to go back. To the village.

His desire's origins were unknown to him. He knew that he wanted to see Vanille again, but he didn't know why. No, that wasn't right. He didn't want to, he _had_ to. He wouldn't be able to rightly focus until he saw her. He just...needed to check on her.

His legs began taking him there. He tromped through the thick blanket of snow, crushing most of it and displacing the rest. It wouldn't take too long to go back.

_This is stupid. I barely know her name. What am I doing?_

But he didn't stop.

He stayed within the safe borders of the trees. During the day, the village was full of activity, so he had to stay back. Thought, from where he was, the people looked no larger than mice. He kept an eye out for Vanille's brilliant hair color, but had no luck spotting her.

He kept up his vigil for days, watching the village. Seeing but not seeing because she never passed into his sight.

Until she did. She returned once more to the man's house, thought for what purpose, he didn't know.

After minimal deliberation, he decided to take a risk. He crept from his position to a place by the door. From there, he could hear voices, but not individual words. He could've went in, but he couldn't seem to work up the nerve. Instead, he laid down like a domesticated guard dog.

Perhaps an hour or so later, Vanille came back of the house. However, Hope was so alert that he nearly didn't notice. She practically tripped over him, her coat temporarily taking his sight. Her flowery smell invaded his nostrils before she righted herself.

"Sorry!" She apologized.

He sneezed.

Later that evening, back in the depths of his snow-drowned woods, Hope caught a glimpse of his clumsy young stalker. Her tanned fur stood out against the white snow, even in the dimming light. As she swerved in between the sleeping trees, he concluded that she was heading for him.

It seemed that it was time for round two.

He stood at his full height and waited for her. At this juncture, pretending to play along with her game was the quickest to get rid of her. Whatever her angle was, he could handle a little girl.

She approached cockily, as if she knew what she was getting into, and felt prepared for it. Curious. She soon stood before him, head, tail, and ears held high. He read no hostility, but she could be quite the actress.

He looked down at her, glaring dangerously. If she wanted to mess with him, she had no idea what he was capable of.

_Your move, kid._

She extended her paws forward and lowered her chest into the chest, the way a cub does when they want to play. He flicked his ears to convey annoyance.

She understood, and stood back up. Her little black nose twitched as she sniffed. She paused for a few moments before beginning again. Her ears flattened, and a growl started in her throat. She glanced behind him, toward the village.

He wasted precious time trying to figure out what she smelled. It was Vanille, it had to be, and she didn't like it. He made this realization just in time to sidestep in her way. His hackles raised and he bared his teeth, releasing a snarl that would scare the piss out of a behemoth. She yelped and tried to sun around him, but he blocked her path again. He took a heavy step toward her and growled.

_This is how I play._

She let out a pathetic whimper and made a one-eighty, sprinting as fast as her short legs could take her.

Hope barked after her, a warning to stay away. For some reason, she was enraged by Vanille's scent. He saw the lust for blood in her eyes. The younger wolf had it in her head that Vanille was prey. And she had the scent.

Did he perceive her as a threat? No. But that didn't stop him from heading back to his post at the village, as snow clouds rolled in overhead.

* * *

"_Awroooooo!_"

Hope jolted awake, once again covered in snow. But this time, he didn't bother to shake it off. On high alert, his eyes attempted to see through the thick frozen water falling heavily from the pitch-black sky, and his ears tried to hear through the curtain of silence. His heart prayed to anyone who would listen that he was wrong.

"_Awrooooooooo!_"

He rose as fast as his icy limbs would allow, and stumbled quickly through the ridiculous snow on the ground. The village. It came from the village. The howl of death. Had she done it? Had she actually-?

He pushed himself faster. No.

The snow thickened so that he didn't notice he had entered the village until he'd nearly smacked into a house. He used the light from that one to find the next, and the next, searching desperately for the soft smell of flowers. He didn't even care if anyone noticed him. If she was inside, then she was fine, and he could write this off as paranoia.

_Please._

Several times he lost his way, lead astray by a house with no light, or one that was too far away from the previous one. Eventually the wind became so strong that he couldn't hear anything else. It got harder to move as the snow piled up, and the wind pushed against him.

_Please._

He tried to go on, but collapsed against the nearest house. It was hopeless. He wouldn't get anywhere in this weather.

It seemed he had collapsed against the door, because it opened, and he tumbled inside. He had no idea where he'd ended up until the door was forced shut.

"Are you okay?"

He forced his frozen lids open, and looked up at her. She had her hair down this time.

"You must be freezing... Come over here." She crossed the house to the fireplace, which was on the opposite wall. Breathing heavily, he followed her, flopping down in front of the dancing flames.

_I'm so glad you're okay._

"What are you doing here?" She asked, sitting where he could see her. "You don't know when this will end. You could've gotten lost out there for days." She paused. "Well, you're safe now."

The fire quickly melted his snow-spun fur, which then clung to his thawing body. Water droplets dripped from his nose as he looked up at her. She looked back, and for a little while, they just stared.

After a few minutes, she loosened one of her hands. It lay still on her leg, but he somehow knew she wanted to pet him. Which he left was slightly absurd, but he _was_ a large furry animal.

He raised his nose toward her and flicked his ears, hopefully conveying that she had permission. She seemed to understand, because she hesitantly reached out her hand. He met her halfway.

Hope blinked.

* * *

**Keeping with the pattern, I'm already working on the next chapter. *evil cackle***

**Thoughts?**


	4. A Curse Covered In Fur

Chapter Four - A Curse Covered In Fur

_It was his fourteenth birthday. His mother had given him a reprieve from his chores, so he'd spent the entire day out at the lake with his friends. Burnt and satisfyingly tired, he'd returned home for dinner to find that his father had actually made an effort to make it in on time for once. They had a real family meal, consisting of some of his favorite foods. He'd gone to bed that night with a smile on his face. It had been a perfect day._

_But night was a different story._

_He woke in the middle of the night with a splitting headache. He clutched his head in his hands, as if that would help, but something was off. He looked at his hands only to discover that they didn't so much resemble hands as they did...paws. He choked on a scream as he checked the rest of him. His feet were halfway through the transition, too. His ears were higher up than they should've been, becoming pointed at the tops, and his nose was flattening. He was slowly being covered in...fur. What was happening?_

_He still didn't scream as white-hot pain shot down his spine, forcing him to curl backwards. He was drenched in sweat by the time he collapsed back onto his bed. He panted, trying to slow down his galloping heart. He didn't realize it until much later, but he was more confused than scared. Maybe even a little intrigued._

_He felt as though his ribs were snapping outwards, one by one. Breathing became impossible, constricted and setting a bomb off in his chest every time he tried. Soon he felt life being taken from him, and rolled over on his side, painfully waiting for death._

* * *

_"Hope? Hope, please."_

_He forced open his heavy eyes, and his first thought was that he wasn't in pain anymore. His second was that his first thought wasn't the issue._

_"Oh, sweetie, you're awake."_

_His mother's voice was very calm, but there was a tightness to it that scared him. He worked all the muscles in his body to make sure they were functioning properly, and they were, but his heart sunk as he noted other things. He was completely rearranged, he was heavier than before. And...he had a tail._

_He figured out his new limbs enough to get off of his side. However, he fell clumsily onto the floor. He huffed in surprise, and scrambled to his paws, claws digging into his bedroom floor._

_He went to his mother and sat down in front of her. He stared at her as she knelt to his new level, taking his transformed face in her hands._

_"I'm sorry, Hope. I should've told you, but I didn't want to believe it."_

_He whined his confusion, wishing he could talk to her._

_His mother ran one hand down his head and through his fur. "There's this story - well, more of a legend - about our family. It started way back with your great-great grandmother. The legend says that she was cursed, so that her first male descendant would become, well, you know." She sighed. "I was so scared when you were born, that it was true, that it was you._

_"But now we know. It is true."_

_Hope placed his left paw - which for some reason was covered in black fur - on his mother's knee, and whined again. He didn't understand. Why didn't anybody tell him? Why was he like this?_

_"I know, sweetie, it's a lot to take in." She paused. "But there is one more thing. According to the story, you're supposed to protect someone. I don't know who, I don't know why. That part has been lost over the years. But I know you can do it, you're smart, you'll figure it out." Suddenly, his mother hugged him. She took a deep breath and whispered one last time, "I'm sorry."_

* * *

Hope blinked.

Vanille cautiously moved her hand farther up his head, and started petting him. Something in him clicked as she began to scratch behind his ears.

It was her. She was the one, the one he had been cursed to protect. That was why he'd felt the need to make sure she was safe. The desire to do so became stronger at the realization. Whatever the reason, he was bound to her, and he would do what needed to be done.

One great big gust of wind rattled the house, and Vanille froze. She glanced around in several different directions before standing. She grabbed a bucket from somewhere near him that must have contained water, because she put out the fire with it.

"Sorry if you're still cold," she said, "but I don't want my house to burn down." She crossed over to what looked like a large pile of blankets, and began to organize them. "Maybe the storm will be over in the morning." She turned back to him. "Go ahead and stay if you want."

The still-damp wolf was grateful for her offer, on multiple levels.

He slept at the foot of her bed that night.

* * *

Hope woke the next morning when the sun feebly poked at his eyelids. He yawned silently, and still half-asleep, glanced out the window. Most of the heavy clouds from the night before had blown away with the wind, leaving patches of blue behind. He vaguely wondered how late it was, but didn't really care that much. He yawned again as he stood and shook out his stiffness.

"Morning!" He heard Vanille say.

He smelled what she was cooking before he saw her. Eggs of some sort. The smell reminded him of home, and his heart clenched.

Oddly enough, his stomach growled at the same time.

Vanille giggled. "Sounds like you're hungry, huh? Here." She tipped some egg onto a plate for him, and set it on the floor. "I know it's not much, but it's warm, and I needed to cook these before they went bad."

Hope sniffed them out of habit before scooping them up into his mouth. They tasted like home, too.

Vanille didn't say anything more as she finished cooking and eating her eggs. Hope just watched her. When she was done, she gathered up both of their plates and put them on her little table, presumably to clean later. She put out the small fire she'd made, and began to bundle up. As soon as she'd done so, she headed for the door.

"I need to dig myself out." She explained.

The great silver wolf decided to help her, and followed her outside, not caring who saw him.

* * *

**Cut! **

**The non-flashback parts were short, I know.**

**So now you know a bit about what's going on with Hope. This is just the tip of the iceberg, believe me, but I can't let you in on the rest of it. At least...not yet... *evil laugh***

**Significant progress has been made on chapter five already, so hopefully I won't break my streak of giving you a new chapter every week.**

**So, what do you think?**


	5. Blood On A White Blanket

**Author's Note:** Aaaannnndddd plot!

* * *

Chapter Five - Blood On A White Blanket

It had been a week since the blizzard, and Hope had hardly left Vanille's side. She'd managed to convince the rest of the village - or at least most of them - that he wasn't a danger to them. It probably helped that he followed her like a puppy rather than a hunter. He still received apprehensive or even fearful looks from some of the villagers, but he didn't care that much.

He didn't see the man at all the entire week he spent with Vanille. His house sat visible in the distance, but it appeared that he never left.

That day, Vanille expressed a desire to take a walk in the woods. Hope didn't think much about it, because she was working. But once she had finished, she headed off toward the trees. He followed her - of course - huffing. He wasn't so sure it was a good idea.

"I do this all the time." She insisted. "And besides, I have you to protect me."

_That's my job._

They soon left her village behind, buried in the shroud of trees. Hope kept his senses on high, for once a bit nervous about the other creatures hidden throughout the sleeping woods. Of course, there were many they didn't have to worry about, accounting for the winter, but there were still hunters out there.

As they tromped through the still thick blanket of snow that coddled the frozen ground, vanilla talked to him. She spoke to him as though he were another human, and a close friend. She spoke of her childhood, how she'd been alone for most of her life, and how she was glad to have a companion, even one who couldn't talk.

He wanted to tell her that he felt the same way, though clearly to a different degree. He had grown accustomed to not seeing a friendly living thing for extended periods of time. He hadn't had a real conversation since his birthday, all those years ago. He wanted to tell her, but as she'd said, he couldn't speak. Not in her language, anyway.

Time passed, and the stories continued. In face, that may have been a bad thing. After a while, Hope realized that he didn't recognize the area they were in. If it weren't for their footprints, he didn't think he'd know how to get back. She'd wandered him out of his radius.

He began to get nervous, and took a deep whiff of the air, just in case. He flattened his ears, and stopped in his tracks. Something was out there. Something big, something headed their way.

Vanille noticed he wasn't beside her anymore, and turned back to see why. She appeared startled by his likely fierce expression, and didn't approach.

"What's wrong?" She asked timidly.

The scent grew stronger, and Hope bared his teeth in it's general direction, growled. He sensed hostility, and the growl was a warning: back off.

The other animal returned the warning, giving away it's location, and what it was. It's growl was essentially an intense purr. A big cat.

Hope wasn't afraid of cats. But he also knew it wasn't going to let him alone. He barked.

_Bring it on._

A large, black-spotted, white leopard leapt out at him from behind the trees. It was bigger than he expected, but he'd fought bigger. He intercepted it before it could get anywhere near Vanille, who screamed in terror. In his peripheral vision, he saw her back off, which made his job easier.

The cat circled him, growling incessantly, it's ice-blue eyes staring him down, sizing him up. It's muscles rippled as it glided lithely through the snow. Hope followed the creature, rotating at his position, never letting it out of his sight. As such, he saw it prepare to pounce. So he prepared to counter.

The cat lunged with a territorial yowl, while Hope stood back on his hind legs, using the front to push his attacker back onto the ground. It was knocked slightly off-balance, but simply dove in a different direction. He whipped around just in time for it to come at him again, but it wasn't fast enough. He went down instead of up, teeth reaching for the first available piece of flesh. The front left foreleg was soon clamped between his jaws. With a twitch, he learned what cat tasted like.

Another yowl, one of rage, sounded in his ears. He was rocked onto the ground, unfriendly claws raking his side, adding to the blood staining the white blanket of snow.

The leopard wasn't playing anymore. It launched itself at him, going for his throat. He managed to kick it away with his back legs, sending it flying into a tree. It was dazed long enough for Hope to get back to his feet, but pounced again before he could make a move. It rammed into him, smacking it's claws into the injuries it had already given him, and making them deeper.

"Hope!" Vanille screamed.

_Stay away!_

He howled in pain as the leopard stayed on top of him, crushing him, digging it's claws further into his flesh. It had the perfect opportunity to clamp it's powerful jaws around his throat, but wasn't taking it. It seemed to want to make him suffer. The weight of the cat was too much, he couldn't fight back.

He heard the deep _snap_ of wood breaking, and he somehow knew it was Vanille. His theory was confirmed when she clubbed a broken branch into the leopard's side.

"Get off!" She shouted.

The image of both of their bodies lying torn and bleeding, dead in the snow, flashed into Hope's mind, and an emotion he hadn't felt in years flooded his heart.

Helplessness.

He could see his own blood soaking the snow he was half-buried in. Barring a miracle, he wasn't getting out of this, and he knew it.

The leopard abandoned his body as Vanille hit it again, and began prowling toward her, a threatening purr crawling out from it's throat.

She clung to her stick, but backed away slowly, green eyes wide in terror, saying, "N-nice kitty. I just wanted you to leave him alone, you can go now."

"Nice kitty" snapped it's teeth at her as she walked into a tree, with nowhere left to go.

_Leave her alone!_

Hope tried to force his bleeding body off the ground, gritting his teeth in an effort to ignore the pain.

"H-Hope." Vanille whimpered.

_I'm coming._

The leopard let out a violent snarl, but at the same time, another voice came from the trees.

"Hey!"

A girl with light pink hair ran into the scene, and straight for the very large, angry, bloodstained, violent cat.

She grabbed it by the ear and drug it away, scolding it harshly for attacking them. Hope collapsed back onto the ground, very confused.

The girl turned to Vanille. "You okay?"

Vanille nodded slowly, glancing between her and the retreating leopard.

"Sorry about him," the girl said, "he's very protective."

She kept talking, but Hope didn't really hear her. His head went foggy, and before he could form a thought, he blacked out.

* * *

**I apologize severely if that sucked.**

**The identities of these new players are probably very obvious, haha. **

**If that seemed to come out of nowhere, all I have to say is that life doesn't build up before it smacks you in the face sometimes.**

**Also: IMPORTANT.**

**As I said at the beginning of this fic, my friend Avid Vampire Hunter is feeding me the plot for this story. For the next two-ish months, there will be very few updates, because I won't have constant contact with her. But there WILL be updates, don't worry.**

**Now that that's settled, what did you think?**


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